The Weaver's Source

Chapter 75

"Did you get hurt?" I asked worriedly.

When Grigore didn't answer, I rolled over as well as I could while trying not to wince with pain. He seemed annoyed and held his hands out as if he wanted to hold me still but didn't, knowing he would only cause me discomfort. I tried to manage both keeping myself covered and sitting up so I could see him clearly. He wore only a tattered grey shirt and breeches, the rest of his usual attire were strewn all over the place. It seemed he was in a hurry. But the shirt worried me. It was blackened by soot and burnt.

I reached out to his arm and, while he didn't pull away, he didn't exactly go out of his way to keep himself from me either. I reached out and tugged the sleeve back, trying my best not to make skin contact, revealing the mottled scarred flesh from the black dog attack, but a small area was horribly burned. I knew it had been worse, far worse.

"How bad was it?" I asked as I frowned at the wound.

"Does it matter?" Grigore asked tersely. "It's healing so its fine."

To me it wasn't fine. If he had any less magic in him he could be dead or scarred again. The arm gave him enough discomfort as it was.

"You shouldn't have put yourself at risk when you have so little magic." I said as he rolled down the sleeve.

His eyes snapped to my face, glaring hotly. "Says you. What were you doing in the middle of that blaze? I told you to run if you felt any dangers."

"I was talking to Ana and I was trying to get her out but the fireball came before I could." I stared at my fingers as I fumbled with the blanket. "The myling didn't want me to die though. He pushed me out of the way first."

"And cracked your head and trapped you." Grigore snarled, clenching his hands in irritation as his eyes wandered over my the raw skin of my arms and neck and the singed locks of my hair. His silence became broodier with every second and his expression grew increasingly infuriated, gathering like a storm. "What did Ana have to say?" He asked stiffly.

"She was rambling mostly but she tried to save Daryl. She kept giving him food and water and was threatened when she tried to get him out and was caught." I said sadly. "She was forced to abandon him."

"That would explain the myling's choice to her to hate. In his eyes, she abandoned him without reason. She left him after giving him hope. He would've slowly grown to loathe her by the time he died. Did Ana say where the boy had been?"

"She just said something about a crypt."

Grigore nodded firmly. "I'll look into to it tomorrow. You will stay here from now on."

My heart shuddered and my face fell. "Is it because I'm wounded? It's not as bad as it looks. The salve helps too."

His muscles tightened and his magic growled about him, thick with anger. "I'm not putting you in that kind of danger again."

"I told you, Daryl didn't want me hurt. He tried to avoid it." I said firmly. I didn't want him to mollycoddle me again, not when I could help him and not get eaten. "Let me finish this with you."

Grigore's scowl had grown deeper, his grey eyes darkening dangerously, glittering with steeled fear. He'd given me a similar expression before, after I had braved the black dog alone and nearly been devoured by it.

"No, Lyra." He growled firmly, his voice firm and deep. "I've nearly lost you too many times. I'm not doing it again."

My heart skipped a beat at hearing that and my face flushed red as I tightened my hold on the blanket. "You're not going to lose me. I'll be fine. Daryl doesn't want to hurt me and you said you would keep an eye on the family."